What Friends Are For
by digitalfletch
Summary: Foster’s first weekend on her own is brightened by some unexpected guests.


Author's Note: A short one-shot to celebrate the season 2 premiere tomorrow…

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Dr. Gillian Foster sat at her kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. Her newly rented kitchen table, in her newly rented apartment.

On the first Sunday morning of her first weekend on her own.

She knew it would be hard, especially at first, and life seemed to be delivering on her low expectations. She looked around at the sealed cardboard boxes that covered most of the space in her adjoining living room, feeling morose. She hadn't had the heart to start opening them yet. It would only underline that her separation from Alec had finally, really come to pass.

Rather than make any effort Saturday to unpack, she'd instead endeavored to spend the whole day at the office, catching up on paperwork. Classic avoidance behavior, she knew full well, but somehow couldn't bring herself to care.

She took another sip of her coffee and the digital clock on her newly rented stove clicked over to 9:05 am. It was going to be a long day.

The doorbell rang, making her jump.

Her first panicky thought was that it was Alec, and she had to remind herself sternly that he didn't know she was here. The only person she had given her new address to was Cal, and surely he wouldn't – no, it was most likely a neighbor, or someone selling something door to door.

The bell rang again, insistently.

Sighing, Gillian set down her cup.

----

She opened the door warily, keeping the chain on just in case, and peered out. Standing in the hallway were two figures, each weighted down with multiple grocery sacks in their arms. The last two people she ever expected to see standing outside her apartment on a Sunday morning.

"Emily? _Cal_?"

She just barely managed to stop herself from blurting, _What are you doing here?_ That would be a warm welcome.

Instead she paused for a moment to recover from the surprise, and then slipped the chain off its track and wordlessly stood aside to let them in.

"Hi, Gillian," Emily chirped, her bright face nearly obscured by the tall paper sacks.

"Morning, luv," Cal added, brushing past with his own load of bags.

"What is all this?" she asked in bemusement as her two guests made a beeline for the kitchen.

"It's your first weekend here," Emily told her, setting her bags down on the countertop, "and Dad said you probably wouldn't have any decent food in the house. So we brought breakfast."

Gillian opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. Of course he was right. Besides the remains of last night's takeout she didn't have a thing in the refrigerator. Cal really did know her well. "But I don't have anything to cook with," she protested weakly.

Cal flashed her a grin. "Thought not," he said. His hand dipped into one of the sacks and emerged with a skillet.

They'd thought of everything. Eggs, bacon, bread, butter, pans, plastic plates and utensils – even a small plug-in toaster – were removed from the bags and carefully laid out on the counter.

"Um, is there anything I can do?" she offered hesitantly.

"No!" they replied in unison, then grinned at one another.

With a mock frown in their direction Gillian rescued her coffee cup from harm's way and settled down at the table, watching as Cal expertly cracked three eggs and began to scramble them in one of the skillets. Emily flitted around her laying out place settings.

Soon the kitchen was filled with the sounds of frying eggs and crackling bacon. Toast jumped from the little toaster, which Emily deftly retrieved and buttered while her father turned the browning bacon with a sure hand.

Gillian observed intently as the little domestic scene unfolded around her, trying to make room in her head for this new vision of her long-time friend and colleague casually cooking breakfast alongside his daughter, unable to keep from smiling as the duo amiably bickered about nothing.

She began to relax for the first time in what seemed like days.

Cal leaned across the table and set a plate in front of her heaped high with steaming eggs, bacon and buttered toast. It looked heavenly and smelled even better.

She laid a hand on his arm. "Thank you," she said appreciatively, trying to convey how much this gesture, this unexpected miracle of companionship and grace, touched her heart. Knowing Cal would see it in her eyes. She turned to include Emily in her warm gaze. "Thank you both."

Cal smiled down at her, a sweet, gentle smile that seemed meant for her alone. "Hey – that's what friends are for."

FIN


End file.
